


Angel of our hearts

by Cieleniti



Series: NCT Oneshots [28]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Brotherly Bonding, Cuddling & Snuggling, Doyoung-centric, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Overwork, Platonic Relationships, Sick Fic, sicheng is mentioned - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:28:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26194891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cieleniti/pseuds/Cieleniti
Summary: Five times Doyoung took care of the members and one time they took care of him.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Everyone
Series: NCT Oneshots [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2148876
Comments: 25
Kudos: 273





	Angel of our hearts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dochiwrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dochiwrites/gifts).



> For being the strong person you are, and know that I'm there supporting you even if you don't know :]

As days came to pass, Doyoung found himself looking less at the mirror. Time seemed to speed up in a way that wasn’t rushed or hurried, merely filled with the tingling of his mind and the edges of his fingers as he looked upon the people he had placed under his wings. Wings that were fragile but would envelope them whole, wings he had crafted from a childhood of mature words spoken under bated breath.

Doyoung did not fear for his wings to break, only that he’d miss one of the many he had held within the palm of his hands. There was no shame in being the parent figure in the group of growing boys with minds that spiralled their own unique ways.

Though he had not realized that even though he was there to stand by the others, there would always be eyes on him, looking from afar, or perhaps just by his shoulder.

-1-

_Taeil, Jaehyun, Donghyuck_

The edges of his fingers were tingling, yearning to reach out and perhaps brush back the fringe that fell over the forehead of the eldest. But he couldn’t do it, not when he could feel the pressure on their shoulders, the shared fear they had as they clutched the music scores within their hands as if they could make sense of it the longer their eyes lingered on the notes.

From the corner of his eye, Doyoung could see Jaehyun’s lips part and shut every few seconds, as if wanting to speak up but not daring to cut the tension that lay between them. Donghyuck was quieter curling up on his chair with his nose buried in his knees. It was their own fears that had created it, and it was fear that stopped them from starting the climb to overcome it. But Doyoung didn’t want them to start unsure, to start knowing that each note that they sang wouldn’t come close to what would be produced.

He stood up with a sigh, walking over to Taeil before gently placing is hand on the elder’s shoulder. When he looked up, Doyoung could see himself within those dark orbs, matching worry and stress that lingered within those irises reflecting back at him. Eyes that seemed to _scream I want to sing I want to sing I want to sing_ and Doyoung knew how that felt.

He wanted to _sing_ too.

The sofa of the recording studio was long enough to fit all three of them, and Doyoung set himself beside Taeil, snaking his arms around the elder. An invitation, as open as his heart and as warm as his smile, and he felt Taeil melt into his embrace. By nature, Doyoung was quiet, but that only meant his shows of affection were all the more apparent.

One look accompanied by an outstretched arm sent Jaehyun barrelling into him, the younger –only by a year but still young in Doyoung’s eyes –burying his face in Doyoung’s neck as his hands crumpled the music score in his hands. Donghyuck shuffled over to sit on the floor and rest his head on Doyoung’s knee. Doyoung didn’t move from where he was, keeping still as the three people he kept close started to shake and tremble and release small sobs into his worn out clothes.

The studio echoes their cries, and Doyoung pulled them closer, letting them into the small warmth his smaller body could offer. His eyes fixated on the recording room where he could see the mic they’d have to share, the headphones they’d have to wear.

“First, third, fifth,” he muttered, mainly to himself, but he knew they could hear. Because that was the first promise they had held between themselves. Jaehyun and Haechan, the first, the root that kept them stable. Taeil, the fifth who would be the core of their voice, to lace his harmony and make it beautiful in his own unique way.

And Doyoung, the third, the quietest among the four who stood only to enhance the other three, but he’d be there. He’d always be there.

He didn’t cry, nor did he release his own frustration onto the score of music he couldn’t bear to look at. There was a line between fear and worry, and Doyoung had long ignored fear for the latter. So he sat there, intertwining his fingers within their strands of hair, humming a tune under his breath as they let out the anxiety bubbling under their skin.

And he waited, and watched as the clock struck twelve. A shadow disappeared from the door.

-2-

_Yuta_

In the confusing reality that made up the life of an idol, there were two things that made sense. You needed to play your role, and you had to entertain.

So when Doyoung purposely packed his bag longer as the practice room emptied out, he watched as Yuta over and over danced the part they had long perfected before. In Doyoung’s eyes, it was already perfect, far higher than he himself could possibly reach. Yuta was there to dance and sing, the way Doyoung was there to sing and dance.

There was a difference, but not that apparent. Not as apparent as the seconds their breaths were used to belt out vocal melodies, nor as apparent as the seconds they appeared in the music videos. It wasn’t apparent, because it was the eyes of the audience that would push them a step upwards, but sometimes that never happened, couldn’t happen.

Doyoung had seen the situation before, months ago when they were ten instead of nine. His heart clenched as the image of a petite young man with outstretched arms and elegant dancing lines flickered behind his eyelids. He shook the image away, standing up to walk over to the Japanese male whose breaths echoed throughout the room.

“Teach me how to dance,” was what Doyoung said, his eyes looking at Yuta’s reflection in the mirror. They were both sweaty, almost the same height and looking ragged from hours of training. “You can dance better than me, so teach me.”

Yuta shook his head, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. “I’m not…you should ask for Taeyong or –“

“Teach me, Yuta” Doyoung repeated, his gaze not wavering as he turned to look at the male. “You know I’m not great at dancing, not as great as you are.”

“But Doyoung, you dance fine but I –“

“If you say that your dancing is worse than mine, you know that’s a lie,” Doyoung said, no malice tinging his voice. Yuta was not like Taeil who was sturdy and calm, nor was he like Taeyong who was emotional and intense. Yuta was like a current of roaring waves, passing by recklessly, violently, impulsively but not without direction. He needed to hear those words, to calm down the storm brewing at the back of his mind. “Teach me how to dance, Yuta…please.”

And so they did, because Doyoung messed up more than Yuta did, and every single time Yuta pointed out his mistakes, it seemed to make him more confident in his own steps, moving at a slower pace where he didn’t feel eyes of competition or fear being called out. And Doyoung was all the happier to give Yuta that confidence, even when he faked a slip or purposely turned the wrong way.

And when they finally packed up to return home, Yuta was smiling. And that’s what mattered.

-3-

_Johnny_

As quiet as Doyoung was, he always prepared himself for the usual banter. Let it be when Hyuck sometimes peeked into his room, his phone in his hand and his bottom lip bitten raw or when sometimes Sicheng would call him over the phone, rambling in rapid Chinese that Doyoung tried to understand.

Sometimes, the banter would come in the morning, when he’d force himself awake to keep the stove hot and the water boiling. He’s have to rush, because Johnny was quite the early bird and Doyoung would rather sacrifice his bedtime than let the make his way to the gym without breakfast.

“ _Good morning_ ,” He greeted in English at the first sound of a door creaking open. He chuckled softly at the whine Johnny gave out, hearing the chair of the dining table screech as it was pulled out. Johnny knew that Doyoung wouldn’t actually let him of so easily.

“To what do I owe this pleasure to?” Johnny teasingly asked in his accent, knowing very well that Doyoung wouldn’t be able to catch on to his words. “To a luxurious breakfast dines upon a silver platter of gold and silver?”

“To hell with that,” Doyoung scoffed, grinning at the face Johnny sent him that looked downright insulted. He switched back to Korean, not really enjoying the way his tongue felt thick and controlled when he spoke the other language. “I’ve been watching movies recommended by Mark and Jaehyun. They’ve been intent on using my projector.”

It was Johnny’s turn to scoff, fondly watching as Doyoung set down the simple dish of eggs and sausages, the scent of rice being steamed wafting over them as they ate.

Doyoung knew working out was something Johnny enjoyed, not only because it made him healthier, but it gave him something worth being proud of –although Doyoung didn’t see why Johnny couldn’t take pride out of moving so efficiently when dancing when he was the tallest in the group. The thought never settled well with Doyoung, and he always made that clear.

“You’re not going on a diet, right?” he questioned, cutting up his sausage with a knife. “I plan to cook something rather fatty for dinner, since our dorm auntie is going to be away for a while.”

Johnny laughed lightly, shaking his head at the younger in front of him. “You don’t need to worry, Doie. I’m not going to be doing anything hardcore, just the usual exercise. I’m still older than you –“

“Not an excuse,” Doyoung replied pointedly, raising his eyebrows. “Come back on time, okay? I might make enough to get the tenth floor eating something healthy again. God forbid they ever consume another packet of overcooked instant noodles.”

“Sure, Doie,” Johnny grinned, sending him a wink. “And…thank you. For the food I mean.”

Doyoung stopped his movements, eyes downcast as he felt his chest blossom with muted happiness at the small gesture of appreciation. A small smile lifted the edges of his lips as he muttered back a quiet “You’re welcome”.

-4-

_Jungwoo_

When Doyoung had first seen the shy boy with newly dyed hair and puppy like features, his had decided then and there that Jungwoo was his.

He had been there when the younger had grown nervous as they ran through the first few steps of the dance, and he was there to wipe away the tears that formed when he finally debuted. Doyoung always found himself thrown into one NCT U unit to another like a character that could shift from persona to persona, and he was glad that that sacrifice brought him closer to the boy who the now called Zeus.

Doyoung had seen how he had shed the cocoon of nerves and grew his own wings that were vibrant, confident in a way that made Doyoung feel like pushing through his own discomfort. Jungwoo had developed a personality that everyone fell in love with, one that made them laugh and smile freely. Jungwoo had become freedom personified.

But when times were darker and bad days lingered, there would be times Jungwoo would shy back into his cocoon. When those times came, Doyoung was always there to keep open his arms, letting the younger boy launched himself onto his chest and cry his eyes out, sobbing violently and shaking as if a mini earthquake had erupted in his chest.

“Hey, Woo?” he whispered into his hair, inhaling the soft scent of flora that the tenth floor shared. “Do you want to talk about it?”

The latter replied with a vicious shake of his head, and Doyoung let a fond smile linger on his lips. The white blanket that had collected at the base of his feet was pulled upwards, over their heads and protected them from the coldness of night. He gently set himself backward, allowing Jungwoo to relax against the mattress while still remaining in his embrace.

They stayed that way for the rest of the night, with their legs entangled and although Jungwoo was taller than Doyoung, he felt small and vulnerable. Doyoung hummed as he raked his hand through Jungwoo’s hair, letting the younger lull himself to sleep from exhausted tears and the gentle vibration of his chest.

When Doyoung woke up, he was alone on the bed. But there was a lollipop grasped in his hand, and that was enough to make him smile.

-5-

_Taeyong, Mark_

NCT may have been one of the most unique concepts SM had ever created. Doyoung didn’t know if that was a gift or a curse.

It was hard for him to see his members leave past the reach of his wings, to roam beyond where his arms could stretch. His mind often wandered to moments when his breath would be held as he prayed for their safety, like during the dance in the rain and he had to watch over and over as they slipped and fell and held in cries of shock. Doyoung didn’t like want that to happen again.

So he placed it upon himself to be prepared when things went wrong, to anticipate before it happened.

**KNOCK KNOCK BEEP**

Doyoung looked up from his book as the door was pushed open. It was 3am, too early, too late. He rushed to the door, eyes sliding to Mark who was supporting himself using the handle of his luggage bag. How much longer would they make the boy work?

Still, Doyoung had no voice in that. He quickly took Taeyong into his arms, the elder boy looking almost out of it as he placed his weight on Doyoung’s shoulder.

“Have you eaten?” Doyoung asked, looking at Mark. The younger boy never lied, and he wouldn’t even if someone told him to. “Both of you?”

“I have, but hyung skipped because he wanted to sleep,” Mark replied, his words slurring together from fatigue. Doyoung bit his bottom lips before gently ushering Taeyong inside. Once the elder left his arms he gently placed his hands on Mark’s cheeks and kissed his forehead gently, a concerned look in his eyes. “Wash up a little before going to sleep, okay?”

“Yes, hyung”

He watched Mark make his way to the elevator and waited for the doors to close before he hurriedly moved into the dorm, quickly reheating the old soup he had prepared for Taeyong beforehand. Apparently the flight had been delayed. Taeyong had slumped onto the sofa, eyes staring aimlessly at the ceiling as Doyoung prepared the dish.

“I saw the video,” Doyoung called, hushing Taeyong when the latter tried to answer. “You did great. I’m proud of you.”

The microwave dinged and he pulled the bowl out setting it on a tray to cool before moving to the refrigerator to cut up some fruits.

“You seem more confident on variety shows these days,” he continued, slicing up some melon and pears. “And your name has been trending on twitter from what I’ve heard. Did you know that?”

The fruits were plated and placed on the tray before Doyoung brought them over to Taeyong, stabbing a piece of melon before bringing it to Taeyong’s lips. The latter didn’t budge, eyes still on the ceiling, and Doyoung frowned, setting down the fork.

“I think I messed up a lot,” Taeyong muttered between tired breaths. “I just…don’t think I did what I could have done.”

Doyoung leaned back against the coffee table, rolling his eyes. “That, my friend, is a whole load of bullshit.”

The statement made Taeyong pull himself up, looking down at the boy in indignation. “Doie! Language!”

“Says the one spitting a whole load of crap,” Doyoung replied defensively, crossing his arms. “I just preached about your awesomeness and how proud I am of you and you suddenly get all sappy with me. That’s not how compliments work!”

This makes Taeyoing punch his in the arm, the latter letting out a teasing groan of pain before reaching for the fork again. “Now eat you ethereal talented wondrous amazing human being, and get yourself to bed.”

“Sir yes sir” Taeyong complied, opening his mouth wide, almost choking as Doyoung shoved the fruit inside his mouth. “YAH!”

“Quickly! I have a Netflix series to watch!”

-6-

_Doyoung_

When it came to Doyoung, it was almost like waiting for something you couldn’t anticipate. It was like trying to scoop up water using your hands only to watch it slip through your fingers.

Taeyong had described Doyoung like a cup, fragile and sensitive but pure, so so pure. He had never seen someone like Doyoung, who kept his emotions under lock and key, yet so easy to break. It had been their opposing personalities that made up their dynamic, two of the most caring people in NCT yet the two were different in a way.

As much as Taeyong didn’t like it, he loved to rely on Doyoung. Doyoung had grown up with a heart as big as his kindness, and he had taken one look at his future bandmates and decided that they were his to protect. It was that parental maturity that made Taeyong search for him when his mind went dark, and Doyoung never pushed anyone away when they asked for comfort.

But Taeyong –and surely the other too –knew that it was impossible for him to not feel the burdens they felt, to not feel homesick or fear his future or feel insecure. So they had to watch his every movement, to search the slight hints he left behind that showed he was unwell, because Doyoung was emotionally intelligent. He would not be the kind to tell if things were going wrong for himself.

That’s what made it all the more complicated.

But there were hints, yes indeed. From the way his eyes lingered a second too long on the sky, and the mild confusion that blurred his eyes as he loses train of thought. The quiet sighs he let out when he thinks no one is looking, and the way his hands grip the edge of the table when he stands, eyes unfocused for a second before his lashes flutter and lucidity returns.

That night, the manager was out as per usual.

The fifth floor was awake, all of them knowing very well that there was something wrong. It was apparent from the way he woke up late to how he didn’t leave his room for the rest of the day. Taeyong made his way in, eyes instantly fixating on the pure white side of the room that belonged to Doyoung. The male was awake, sitting at the edge of his bed, crossed legged, while looking out the open window at the star filled sky, a rare occurrence.

Doyoung always loved the night skies. It reminded him of home.

Taeyong crawled onto the bed, making it dip before sitting beside Doyoung. The younger man didn’t shift his eyes from the night sky, even when Taeyong took his warm hand and placed it within both his own. Taeyong gazed at Doyoung for a long time, until he saw the first tear trickle down his cheek. There was no sobbing, no sniffling and no cries.

Doyoung ‘s tears were silent, and Taeyong wondered how many other nights they had missed before.

He leaned forward onto is knees before reaching out to wipe the tear tracks away. He gently took Doyoung’s shoulders and turned them around before pulling him into a hug. Alike to his tears, Taeyong was quiet as he comforted the latter, the wetness that dampened his clothes the only sign that Doyoung was in a state of sadness.

“You have a fever, Doie,” Taeyong whispered, looking over at the door to tell the others it was okay to enter. Donghyuck was holding a bowl of cold water while Johnny had brought along some extra pillows and blankets. “Do you want to lay down?”

There was no answer, but Doyoung’s grip tightened and he pulled Taeyong closer, burying his face deeper. Johnny set down the pillows and dampened a cloth, quickly pressing it to Doyoung’s neck and back in hopes to cool down his temperature. Taeyong could feel Doyoung shivering under his touch, his chest beginning to wrack with sobs at the discomfort.

“It’s just for a day, okay? You’ll be fine soon,” he comforted gently as Donghyuck positioned the pillows and wrapped his shoulders with a new blanket. “We love you so much, Doie.”

Doyoung was gently set down, and Taeyong’s breath hitched when he pulled the blankets tighter around himself. Perhaps the fever was worse than he thought. Doyoung had been worried sick the past few weeks, and add that to growing home sickness. It was evident that the fever would come sooner or later.

“It would probably get messier when the fever sets in,” Taeyong sighed, placing the damp cloth on Doyoung’s forehead. “Prepare a bucket and tell the others. I think Jaehyun would rage if we kept this from him.”

“Everyone would be,” Donghyuck muttered before heading outside to call Taeil. Johnny sat by Doyoung’s side, tucking the small porcupine doll under the blanket, his gaze softening as Doyoung snuggled his chin into it, his eyes partially open but glazed over with fever.

“Hey, love. You feeling okay?” he asked gently as Doyoung’s gaze travelled from his surroundings before settling on Johnny. The only answer was small whimpers and more tears travelling down the sides of his face which Johnny wiped away tenderly, whispering words of comfort in English with his soft lisp.

Taeyong heard the door beep open and there was the sound of rustling plastic bags and hushed voices. It was better if they were put to work before they’d make too big of a fuss. Still, he was too late as Jaehyun came running in, quickly taking Taeyong’s place and brushing Doyoung’s hair out of his eyes.

The look Doyoung gave him was one of weary fondness as Jaehyun started to tell some stories under breath, hopefully to distract Doyoung from the pain he was in. Taeyong set to work cooking up some broth and ordering the others around the kitchen. There was much work to be done.

Yet, when he made his way back, he was met with the sight of Jaehyun curled up beside Doyoung, his chin resting on the top of Doyoung’s head and Johnny bent over, sleeping with his head on the mattress. Taeyong felt his heart blossom with fondness at the sight, and he set down the food. The others were probably turning on a Disney Movie to watch, gathering blankets and pillows at the living room.

Taeyong leaned down and pressed a kiss to Doyoung’s cheek, whispering a good night before turning away, a small smile on his lips. Doyoung cracked open an eye, smiling to himself before he exhaled a long sigh, the heat of his breath making his throat sore.

But he was happy, in a way. It had been a while since he had been taken care of like this.

And he found himself enjoying it quite a lot.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I have written yet another cannon. Doyoung is such a precious bean, and we must protect him at all costs :') Hope you liked this fic and sorry if it was rushed or mediocre. Hahahha it was supposed to be longer but I'm tired out. Do comment because I love reading them and do suggest other one shots for me to write! We're nearing 50 works already! Time passes by so fast :) See you~
> 
>   
> [twt](https://twitter.com/Skydancer_8?s=09) | [CC](https://curiouscat.me/Skydancer_8)


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